


Warm Hands/Warm Heart

by midorikaze (quailsareneat)



Category: Samurai Love Ballad: PARTY, 天下統一恋の乱 Love Ballad | Samurai Love Ballad (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, otome games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7254949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quailsareneat/pseuds/midorikaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, Lord Kojuro... You have such large hands..."</p><p>Those words were what started it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Hands/Warm Heart

**Author's Note:**

> hellooooo sailor  
> welcome to my latest addiction, SLBP. i'm physically incapable of not writing ridiculous amounts of smut for this game, LOL
> 
> anyway, the first line is from kojuro's main route, but follows what the MC thought had happened rather than what had actually happened. enjoy!

“...Oh, Lord Kojuro… you have such big hands…”

Before you could stop yourself, those words had slipped from your lips. And those words were what started it all.

Now, you find yourself pulled into Kojuro’s lap, chests pressed together, while those same big hands explore your body. You notice vaguely how small he makes you feel; he had grabbed you as if you were as light as a feather, after all. But you had never really had reason to think of your body as being small or delicate, nor anything to really compare it to. With Kojuro’s hands caressing you, however -- his long, slender fingers moving reverently over your body, taking whatever they want but leaving no marks behind -- you become acutely aware of every inch of yourself.

His touch moves slowly, as if he’s trying to memorise how you feel in that moment. Your own hands ache to move similarly over him; as it is, the two of you are pressed as close as possible, but it’s still not enough.

Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around him and run them up his back, feeling his shoulder blades through his kimono. Kojuro’s grasp on you tightens. You lean your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and breathing in deeply, letting his warmth seep into your skin as if you were sitting outside on a summer day. For a moment, it feels like time stops.

That is, until you feel your kimono loosen at the collar, and a large hand sliding down over the nape of your neck.

“L-Lord Kojuro…” you stutter. With his hand on the back of your neck, you can’t even move back to look at him.

“Mmn?” Kojuro hums in your ear. His voice is a low rumble, as calm and steady as ever, despite the situation. “Would you like to see what else these big hands can do?”

As if to drive his intention home, he slips your kimono off of one of your shoulders. His other hand grabs you securely around the waist, keeping you seated on his lap -- though you know, within, that you wouldn’t move even if you could.

Kojuro’s hand is warm as he trails it down your bare arm. When he moves away, your skin tingles, longing for his touch again. He traces the line of your spine, stopping when he reaches the juncture of your hip and your thigh. With his other hand, he pulls off the rest of your kimono, letting it pool at your waist. The exposure cools your skin, and you instinctively move closer to him to seek his warmth.

“Do not worry,” Kojuro murmurs. “I won’t let you get cold.”

The implications of those words still send a shiver down your spine.

Keeping one arm casually around your waist, with his hand on your hip, he brings the other up, trailing his fingers against your side. Though you try not to wiggle -- it tickles! -- you can’t keep yourself from moving. The movement makes a low groan rise in Kojuro’s throat. It’s at that sound that you realise what you’re sitting on.

A rosy blush creeps up your skin, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you reposition yourself carefully so that your legs wrap around Kojuro’s hips, now. There’s no doubt at all how he’s feeling right now, if the solid bulge in his pants is anything to go by.

Shyly, you look up at him from under your lashes. He meets your gaze, then leans toward you.

The kiss is soft, softer than you had been expecting; the possessiveness of his touch had lead you to believe that he would be far more forceful. You kiss him back, eagerly, until that, too, is no longer enough. Opening your mouth slightly, you slide your tongue out, tasting his lips. In response, he grips you harder -- his fingers press into your skin, and he takes your mouth with his. Kojuro bites your bottom lip and, when you gasp, moves his tongue into your mouth. A small moan slips out from your throat, which he hungrily swallows.

“Suzume…” Kojuro rasps, breaking the kiss for only a second to meet your eyes. He drags his hand up to your chest, slightly rougher than before, and you arch into him. The fabric of both his kimono and his overcoat move against your skin. However, true to his words, Kojuro keeps you warm despite your lack of clothing, running his hands over you and keeping you close.

When you reach down to untie his kimono at the waist, he leans back. In his eyes are the questions: Is this okay? Are you alright? ...Am I who you want?

“Yes,” you breathe, “to all of them.”

Relief settles in his face; it wouldn’t be obvious to everyone, but not many have watched him as closely as you, seen as many different sides of him as you. He cups your cheek and kisses you lightly.

Removing the tie around his waist, you finally slide your hands over his now-bare chest. Training and war have made Kojuro hard, unyielding; where you have soft curves, he has sharp, angled planes of muscle and skin. He yields to you now, though, responding to your touch as you settle your arms around his neck.

With his overcoat and shirt gone, the two of you are naked from the waist up. You’re both aware of what’s going to come next; but neither of you seem to want to let go for long enough to remove the rest of your clothing.

You think to yourself, wryly, that it’s already taking all your effort not to let go of your sanity.

“...It’s alright,” Kojuro says. “Stay with me… like this.” You’re unable to resist when he asks like that, paired with a gaze that makes you think he might be asking you to stay forever.

You nod. When you do, you catch a glimpse of the smile on his face before he leans forward and bites your neck. Before you can even make a sound, he’s already kissing the spot better, and then moving on to nip again. You run your hands into his hair -- to hold him there or to hold yourself together, you’re not sure, but you wind your fingers into it, mussing it up and smoothing it back down, fingers jittery. Small noises keep escaping you at every bite, every kiss. Neither of you have noticed how his fingers are digging into you with the effort of holding on.

His name is on your every breath, whispering out of you like an oath. Likewise, Kojuro calls for you as often as he peppers your skin with kisses, interrupted only by the groans he can’t hold back.

At a particularly loud cry, he finally pulls back after planting a last kiss on your shoulder. He reaches down to his waist.

“May I...?” he asks.

Swallowing thickly, you reply.

“A-allow me, Milord.”

With slightly shaking hands, you push his pants down enough to expose his member. There’s a second -- just a second -- where it hits you that this is really happening. Kojuro, observant as ever, notices. He murmurs to you, sweet words of reassurance that you can say no whenever you want to. You shake your head. It’s not what it is, you want to tell him, but the fact that you never thought it would happen, that’s making you pause.

Guiding his hand to the hem of your kimono is the best you can do when those words won’t come. He pauses for the barest moment, and then slides his hand up your thigh, pushing the fabric aside. His elegant fingers stroke you. The sudden touch makes you hiss in a breath.

It is, once again, not enough. You wonder if anything ever will be, or if involving yourself with Lord Kojuro means being in a never-ending cycle of longing.

Placing your hand, so much smaller than his, against his cheek, you tell him that it’s okay. That you’re alright. That it’s him you want. He covers your hand with his large one, then catches it and pulls it to his mouth, pressing a kiss into your palm.

You can tell the effort he’s putting in to control himself as you sit over top of him and slowly sink down. At first, there’s a sharp pain that makes you stop completely. Pressing your forehead into his shoulder, you breathe in and out slowly, forcing yourself to calm down. Kojuro begins to stroke your hair; the gentle intimacy of that touch soothes you. After a few minutes, you’re able to move again, and lower yourself more.

It starts out so slowly that you’re barely moving, just rocking back and forth the slightest bit while Kojuro strokes your thighs and exchanges both kisses and endearments. You can tell, from the stiffness of his legs and the shallow breaths he’s taking, that he’d like nothing more than to take control right now, but he’s holding himself back. Thinking only of you, your comfort.

Eventually, you become used to the sensation. It’s easier to move without pain, and the knowledge of how closely the two of you are joined brings a sweetness to the act. Your arms are still around his neck, and he’s started moving you himself, using his hold on your waist to lift you up and bounce you against him.

It’s difficult to focus on keeping your hips moving as well as kissing, so you settle for holding him as close as possible. You rest your chin on his shoulder, his mouth near your ear, which enables you to hear every breath and gasp of Kojuro’s, as well as your name, your name, your name, constantly falling from his lips, like he’s reciting poetry or scripture. In return, your nails on his back leave small marks, a signature at the bottom of a painting claiming it as yours.

When his hips start jerking out of rhythm, you know that he’s close. You yourself have been riding between pleasure and the pure sensation of it, both odd and enjoyable at the same time. Putting all of your attention into the motion of your body, you grind against him, thinking only of how much you love him.

“Suzu..me..” Kojuro gasps between breaths, his chest heaving.

“K-Kojuro,” you respond immediately, “..nn.. y-your hands…”

At your words, he pulls you into a desperate clutch, his mouth at yours again. His kisses are fast; he doesn’t seem concerned about whether they land on your lips or not. You feel yourself reaching your limit, too. A white light creeps into your vision, obscuring everything but the sight of the man you love in front of you, until he, too, is erased by it for a pure, blinding second. Crying out, you squeeze him and feel him return the touch. He thrusts into you wildly a few more times before spending himself inside of you.

The two of you sit in silence for a minute, the only noise that of your gasping breaths. Slumped against his chest, you can feel his racing heart, and know that it is only matched by your own.


End file.
